Robur the Conqueror by Jules Verne

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With regards to the means employed to give the aerostat its motion a
great deal of progress had been made. For the steam engines of Henry
Giffard, and the muscular force of Dupuy de Lome, electric motors had
gradually been substituted. The batteries of bichromate of potassium
of the Tissandier brothers had given a speed of four yards a second.
The dynamo-electric machines of Captain Krebs and Renard had
developed a force of twelve horsepower and yielded a speed of six and
a half yards per second.

With regard to this motor, engineers and electricians had been
approaching more and more to that desideratum which is known as a
steam horse in a watch case. Gradually the results of the pile of
which Captains Krebs and Renard had kept the secret had been
surpassed, and aeronauts had become able to avail themselves of
motors whose lightness increased at the same time as their power.

In this there was much to encourage those who believed in the
utilization of guidable balloons. But yet how many good people there
are who refuse to admit the possibility of such a thing! If the
aerostat finds support in the air it belongs to the medium in which
it moves; under such conditions, how can its mass, which offers so
much resistance to the currents of the atmosphere, make its way
against the wind?

In this struggle of the inventors after a light and powerful motor,
the Americans had most nearly attained what they sought. A
dynamo-electric apparatus, in which a new pile was employed the
composition of which was still a mystery, had been bought from its
inventor, a Boston chemist up to then unknown. Calculations made with
the greatest care, diagrams drawn with the utmost exactitude, showed
that by means of this apparatus driving a screw of given dimensions a
displacement could be obtained of from twenty to twenty-two yards a
second.

Now this was magnificent!

"And it is not dear," said Uncle Prudent, as he handed to the
inventor in return for his formal receipt the last installment of the
hundred thousand paper dollars he had paid for his invention.

Immediately the Weldon Institute set to work. When there comes along
a project of practical utility the money leaps nimbly enough from
American pockets. The funds flowed in even without its being
necessary to form a syndicate. Three hundred thousand dollars came
into the club's account at the first appeal. The work began under the
superintendence of the most celebrated aeronaut of the United States,
Harry W. Tinder, immortalized by three of his ascents out of a
thousand, one in which he rose to a height of twelve thousand yards,
higher than Gay Lussac, Coxwell, Sivet, Croce-Spinelli, Tissandier,
Glaisher; another in which he had crossed America from New York to
San Francisco, exceeding by many hundred leagues the journeys of
Nadar, Godard, and others, to say nothing of that of John Wise, who
accomplished eleven hundred and fifty miles from St. Louis to
Jefferson county; the third, which ended in a frightful fall from
fifteen hundred feet at the cost of a slight sprain in the right
thumb, while the less fortunate Pilatre de Rozier fell only seven
hundred feet, and yet killed himself on the spot!

At the time this story begins the Weldon institute had got their work
well in hand. In the Turner yard at Philadelphia there reposed an
enormous aerostat, whose strength had been tried by highly compressed
air. It well merited the name of the monster balloon.

How large was Nadar's Geant? Six thousand cubic meters. How large was
John Wise's balloon? Twenty thousand cubic meters. How large was the
Giffard balloon at the 1878 Exhibition? Twenty-five thousand cubic
meters. Compare these three aerostats with the aerial machine of the
Weldon Institute, whose volume amounted to forty thousand cubic
meters, and you will understand why Uncle Prudent and his colleagues
were so justifiably proud of it.

This balloon not being destined for the exploration of the higher
strata of the atmosphere, was not called the Excelsior, a name which
is rather too much held in honor among the citizens of America. No!
It was called, simply, the "Go-Ahead," and all it had to do was to
justify its name by going ahead obediently to the wishes of its
commander.

The dynamo-electric machine, according to the patent purchased by the
Weldon Institute, was nearly ready. In less than six weeks the
"Go-Ahead" would start for its first cruise through space.

But, as we have seen, all the mechanical difficulties had not been
overcome. Many evenings had been devoted to discussing, not the form
of its screw nor its, dimensions, but whether it ought to be put
behind, as the Tissandier brothers had done, or before as Captains
Krebs and Renard had done. It is unnecessary to add that the
partisans of the two systems had almost come to blows. The group of
"Beforists" were equaled in number by the group of "Behindists."
Uncle Prudent, who ought to have given the casting vote--Uncle
Prudent, brought up doubtless in the school of Professor Buridan--
could not bring himself to decide.

Hence the impossibility of getting the screw into place. The dispute
might last for some time, unless the government interfered. But in
the United States the government meddles with private affairs as
little as it possibly can. And it is right.

Things were in this state at this meeting on the 13th of June, which
threatened to end in a riot--insults exchanged, fisticuffs
succeeding the insults, cane thrashings succeeding the fisticuffs,
revolver shots succeeding the cane thrashings--when at thirty-seven
minutes past eight there occurred a diversion.

The porter of the Weldon Institute coolly and calmly, like a
policeman amid the storm of the meeting, approached the presidential
desk. On it he placed a card. He awaited the orders that Uncle
Prudent found it convenient to give.

Uncle Prudent turned on the steam whistle, which did duty for the
presidential bell, for even the Kremlin clock would have struck in
vain! But the tumult slackened not.

Then the president removed his hat. Thanks to this extreme measure a
semi-silence was obtained.

"A communication!" said Uncle Prudent, after taking a huge pinch from
the snuff-box which never left him.

"Speak up!" answered eighty-nine voices, accidentally in agreement on
this one point.

"A stranger, my dear colleagues, asks to be admitted to the meeting."

"Never!" replied every voice.

"He desires to prove to us, it would appear," continued Uncle
Prudent, 'that to believe in guiding balloons is to believe in the
absurdest of Utopias!"

"Let him in! Let him in!"

"What is the name of this singular personage?" asked secretary Phil
Evans.

"Robur," replied Uncle Prudent.

"Robur! Robur! Robur!" yelled the assembly. And the welcome accorded
so quickly to the curious name was chiefly due to the Weldon
Institute hoping to vent its exasperation on the head of him who bore
it!

Chapter IV

IN WHICH A NEW CHARACTER APPEARS

"Citizens of the United States! My name is Robur. I am worthy of the
name! I am forty years old, although I look but thirty, and I have a
constitution of iron, a healthy vigor that nothing can shake, a
muscular strength that few can equal, and a digestion that would be
thought first class even in an ostrich!"

They were listening! Yes! The riot was quelled at once by the totally
unexpected fashion of the speech. Was this fellow a madman or a
hoaxer? Whoever he was, he kept his audience in hand. There was not a
whisper in the meeting in which but a few minutes ago the storm was
in full fury.

And Robur looked the man he said he was. Of middle height and
geometric breadth, his figure was a regular trapezium with the
greatest of its parallel sides formed by the line of his shoulders.
On this line attached by a robust neck there rose an enormous
spheroidal head. The head of what animal did it resemble from the
point of view of passional analogy? The head of a bull; but a bull
with an intelligent face. Eyes which at the least opposition would
glow like coals of fire; and above them a permanent contraction of
the superciliary muscle, an invariable sign of extreme energy. Short
hair, slightly woolly, with metallic reflections; large chest rising
and falling like a smith's bellows; arms, hands, legs, feet, all
worthy of the trunk. No mustaches, no whiskers, but a large American
goatee, revealing the attachments of the jaw whose masseter muscles
were evidently of formidable strength. It has been calculated--what
has not been calculated?--that the pressure of the jaw of an
ordinary crocodile can reach four hundred atmospheres, while that of
a hound can only amount to one hundred. From this the following
curious formula has been deduced: If a kilogram of dog produces eight
kilograms of masseteric force, a kilogram of crocodile could produce
twelve. Now, a kilogram of, the aforesaid Robur would not produce
less than ten, so that he came between the dog and the crocodile.

>From what country did this remarkable specimen come? It was difficult
to say. One thing was noticeable, and that was that he expressed
himself fluently in English without a trace of the drawling twang
that distinguishes the Yankees of New England.

He continued: "And now, honorable citizens, for my mental faculties.
You see before you an engineer whose nerves are in no way inferior to
his muscles. I have no fear of anything or anybody. I have a strength
of will that has never had to yield. When I have decided on a thing,
all America, all the world, may strive in vain to keep me from it.
When I have an idea, I allow no one to share it, and I do not permit
any contradiction. I insist on these details, honorable citizens,
because it is necessary you should quite understand me. Perhaps you
think I am talking too much about myself? It does not matter if you
do! And now consider a little before you interrupt me, as I have come
to tell you something that you may not be particularly pleased to
hear."

A sound as of the surf on the beach began to rise along the first row
of seats--a sign that the sea would not be long in getting stormy
again.

"Speak, stranger!" said Uncle Prudent, who had some difficulty in
restraining himself.

And Robur spoke as follows, without troubling himself any more about
his audience.

"Yes! I know it well! After a century of experiments that have led to
nothing, and trials giving no results, there still exist ill-balanced
minds who believe in guiding balloons. They imagine that a motor of
some sort, electric or otherwise, might be applied to their
pretentious skin bags which are at the mercy of every current in the
atmosphere. They persuade themselves that they can be masters of an
aerostat as they can be masters of a ship on the surface of the sea.
Because a few inventors in calm or nearly calm weather have succeeded
in working an angle with the wind, or even beating to windward in a
gentle breeze, they think that the steering of aerial apparatus
lighter than the air is a practical matter. Well, now, look here; You
hundred, who believe in the realization of your dreams, are throwing
your thousands of dollars not into water but into space! You are
fighting the impossible!"

Strange as it was that at this affirmation the members of the Weldon
Institute did not move. Had they become as deaf as they were patient?
Or were they reserving themselves to see how far this audacious
contradictor would dare to go?

Robur continued: "What? A balloon! When to obtain the raising of a
couple of pounds you require a cubic yard of gas. A balloon
pretending to resist the wind by aid of its mechanism, when the
pressure of a light breeze on a vessel's sails is not less than that
of four hundred horsepower; when in the accident at the Tay Bridge
you saw the storm produce a pressure of eight and a half
hundredweight on a square yard. A balloon, when on such a system
nature has never constructed anything flying, whether furnished with
wings like birds, or membranes like certain fish, or certain mammalia
--"

"Mammalia?" exclaimed one of the members.

"Yes! Mammalia! The bat, which flies, if I am not mistaken! Is the
gentleman unaware that this flyer is a mammal? Did he ever see an
omelette made of bat's eggs?"

The interrupter reserved himself for future interruption, and Robur
resumed: "But does that mean that man is to give up the conquest of
the air, and the transformation of the domestic and political manners
of the old world, by the use of this admirable means of locomotion?
By no means. As he has become master of the seas with the ship, by
the oar, the sail, the wheel and the screw, so shall he become master
of atmospherical space by apparatus heavier than the air--for it
must be heavier to be stronger than the air!"

And then the assembly exploded. What a broadside of yells escaped
from all these mouths, aimed at Robur like the muzzles of so many
guns! Was not this hurling a declaration of war into the very camp of
the balloonists? Was not this a stirring up of strife between 'the
lighter" and 'the heavier" than air?

Robur did not even frown. With folded arms he waited bravely till
silence was obtained.

By a gesture Uncle Prudent ordered the firing to cease.

"Yes," continued Robur, "the future is for the flying machine. The
air affords a solid fulcrum. If you will give a column of air an
ascensional movement of forty-five meters a second, a man can support
himself on the top of it if the soles of his boots have a superficies
of only the eighth of a square meter. And if the speed be increased
to ninety meters, he can walk on it with naked feet. Or if, by means
of a screw, you drive a mass of air at this speed, you get the same
result."

What Robur said had been said before by all the partisans of
aviation, whose work slowly but surely is leading on to the solution
of the problem. To Ponton d'Amecourt, La Landelle, Nadar, De Luzy, De
Louvrie, Liais, Beleguir, Moreau, the brothers Richard, Babinet,
Jobert, Du Temple, Salives, Penaud, De Villeneuve, Gauchot and Tatin,
Michael Loup, Edison, Planavergne, and so many others, belongs the
honor of having brought forward ideas of such simplicity. Abandoned
and resumed times without number, they are sure, some day to triumph.
To the enemies of aviation, who urge that the bird only sustains
himself by warming the air he strikes, their answer is ready. Have
they not proved that an eagle weighing five kilograms would have to
fill fifty cubic meters with his warm fluid merely to sustain himself
in space?

This is what Robur I demonstrated with undeniable logic amid the
uproar that arose on all sides. And in conclusion these are the words
he hurled in the faces of the balloonists: "With your aerostats you
can do nothing--you will arrive at nothing--you dare do nothing!
The boldest of your aeronauts, John Wise, although he has made an
aerial voyage of twelve hundred miles above the American continent,
has had to give up his project of crossing the Atlantic! And you have
not advanced one step--not one step--towards your end."

"Sir," said the president, who in vain endeavored to keep himself
cool, "you forget what was said by our immortal Franklin at the first
appearance of the fire balloon, "It is but a child, but it will
grow!" It was but a child, and it has grown.

"No, Mr. President, it has not grown! It has got fatter--and this is
not the same thing!"

This was a direct attack on the Weldon Institute, which had decreed,
helped, and paid for the making of a monster balloon. And so
propositions of the following kind began to fly about the room: 'turn
him out!" 'throw him off the platform!" "Prove that he is heavier
than the air!"

But these were only words, not means to an end.

Robur remained impassible, and continued: "There is no progress for
your aerostats, my citizen balloonists; progress is for flying
machines. The bird flies, and he is not a balloon, he is a piece of
mechanism!"

"Yes, he flies!" exclaimed the fiery Bat T. Fynn; "but he flies
against all the laws of mechanics."

"Indeed!" said Robur, shrugging his shoulders, and resuming, "Since
we have begun the study of the flight of large and small birds one
simple idea has prevailed--to imitate nature, which never makes
mistakes. Between the albatross, which gives hardly ten beats of the
wing per minute, between the pelican, which gives seventy --"

"Seventy-one," said the voice of a scoffer.

"And the bee, which gives one hundred and ninety-two per second --"

"One hundred and ninety-three!" said the facetious individual.

"And, the common house fly, which gives three hundred and thirty --"

"And a half!"

"And the mosquito, which gives millions --"

"No, milliards!"

But Robur, the interrupted, interrupted not his demonstration.
"Between these different rates --" he continued.

"There is a difference," said a voice.

"There is a possibility of finding a practical solution. When De Lucy
showed that the stag beetle, an insect weighing only two grammes,
could lift a weight of four hundred grammes, or two hundred times its
own weight, the problem of aviation was solved. Besides, it has been
shown that the wing surface decreases in proportion to the increase
of the size and weight of the animal. Hence we can look forward to
such contrivances --"

"Which would never fly!" said secretary Phil Evans.

"Which have flown, and which will fly," said Robur, without being in
the least disconcerted, "and which we can call streophores,
helicopters, orthopters--or, in imitation of the word 'nef,' which
comes from 'navis,' call them from 'avis,' 'efs,'--by means of which
man will become the master of space. The helix --"

"Ah, the helix!" replied Phil Evans. "But the bird has no helix; that
we know!"

"So," said Robur; "but Penaud has shown that in reality the bird
makes a helix, and its flight is helicopteral. And the motor of the
future is the screw --"

"From such a maladee Saint Helix keep us free!" sung out one of the
members, who had accidentally hit upon the air from Herold's "Zampa."

And they all took up the chorus: "From such a maladee Saint Helix
keep us free!" with such intonations and variations as would have
made the French composer groan in his grave.

As the last notes died away in a frightful discord Uncle Prudent took
advantage of the momentary calm to say, "Stranger, up to now, we let
you speak without interruption." It seemed that for the president of
the Weldon Institute shouts, yells, and catcalls were not
interruptions, but only an exchange of arguments.

"But I may remind you, all the same, that the theory of aviation is
condemned beforehand, and rejected by the majority of American and
foreign engineers. It is a system which was the cause of the death of
the Flying Saracen at Constantinople, of the monk Volador at Lisbon,
of De Leturn in 1852, of De Groof in 1864, besides the victims I
forget since the mythological Icarus --"

"A system," replied Robur, "no more to be condemned than that whose
martyrology contains the names of Pilatre de Rozier at Calais, of
Blanchard at Paris, of Donaldson and Grimwood in Lake Michigan, of
Sivel and of Croce-Spinelli, and others whom it takes good care, to
forget."

This was a counter-thrust with a vengeance.

"Besides," continued Robur, "With your balloons as good as you can
make them you will never obtain any speed worth mentioning. It would
take you ten years to go round the world--and a flying machine could
do it in a week!"

Here arose a new tempest of protests and denials which lasted for
three long minutes. And then Phil Evans look up the word.

"Mr. Aviator," he said "you who talk so much of the benefits of
aviation, have you ever aviated?"

"I have."

"And made the conquest of the air?"

"Not unlikely."

"Hooray for Robur the Conqueror!" shouted an ironical voice.

"Well, yes! Robur the Conqueror! I accept the name and I will bear
it, for I have a right to it!"

"We beg to doubt it!" said Jem Chip.

"Gentlemen," said Robur, and his brows knit, "when I have just
seriously stated a serious thing I do not permit anyone to reply to
me by a flat denial, and I shall be glad to know the name of the
interrupter."

"My name is Chip, and I am a vegetarian."

"Citizen Chip," said Robur, "I knew that vegetarians had longer
alimentary canals than other men--a good foot longer at the least.
That is quite long enough; and so do not compel me to make you any
longer by beginning at your ears and --"

"Throw him out."

"Into the street with him!"

"Lynch him!"

"Helix him!"

The rage of the balloonists burst forth at last. They rushed at the
platform. Robur disappeared amid a sheaf of hands that were thrown
about as if caught in a storm. In vain the steam whistle screamed its
fanfares on to the assembly. Philadelphia might well think that a
fire was devouring one of its quarters and that all the waters of the
Schuyllkill could not put it out.

Suddenly there was a recoil in the tumult. Robur had put his hands
into his pockets and now held them out at the front ranks of the
infuriated mob.

In each hand was one of those American institutions known as
revolvers which the mere pressure of the fingers is enough to fire --
pocket mitrailleuses in fact.

And taking advantage not only of the recoil of his assailants but
also of the silence which accompanied it.

"Decidedly," said he, "it was not Amerigo that discovered the New
World, it was Cabot! You are not Americans, citizen balloonists! You
are only Cabo-"

Four or five shots cracked out, fired into space. They hurt nobody.
Amid the smoke, the engineer vanished; and when it had thinned away
there was no trace of him. Robur the Conqueror had flown, as if some
apparatus of aviation had borne him into the air.

Chapter V

ANOTHER DISAPPEARANCE

This was not the first occasion on which, at the end of their stormy
discussions, the members of the Weldon Institute had filled Walnut
Street and its neighborhood with their tumult. Several times had the
inhabitants complained of the noisy way in which the proceedings
ended, and more than once had the policemen had to interfere to clear
the thoroughfare for the passersby, who for the most part were
supremely indifferent on the question of aerial navigation. But never
before had the tumult attained such proportions, never had the
complaints been better founded, never had the intervention of the
police been more necessary.

But there was some excuse for the members of the Weldon Institute.
They had been attacked in their own house. To these enthusiasts for
"lighter than air" a no less enthusiast for "heavier than air" had
said things absolutely abhorrent. And at the moment they were about
to treat him as he deserved, he had disappeared.

So they cried aloud for vengeance. To leave such insults unpunished
was impossible to all with American blood in their veins. Had not the
sons of Amerigo been called the sons of Cabot? Was not that an insult
as unpardonable as it happened to be just--historically?

The members of the club in several groups rushed down Walnut Street,
then into the adjoining streets, and then all over the neighborhood.
They woke up the householders; they compelled them to search their
houses, prepared to indemnify them later on for the outrage on their
privacy. Vain were all their trouble and searching. Robur was nowhere
to be found; there was no trace of him. He might have gone off in the
"Go-Ahead," the balloon of the Institute, for all they could tell.
After an hour's hunt the members had to give in and separate, not
before they had agreed to extend their search over the whole
territory of the twin Americas that form the new continent.

By eleven o'clock quiet had been restored in the neighborhood of
Walnut Street. Philadelphia was able to sink again into that sound
sleep which is the privilege of non-manufacturing towns. The
different members of the club parted to seek their respective houses.
To mention the most distinguished amongst them, William T. Forbes
sought his large sugar establishment, where Miss Doll and Miss Mat
had prepared for him his evening tea, sweetened with his own glucose.
Truck Milnor took the road to his factory in the distant suburb,
where the engines worked day and night. Treasurer Jim Chip, publicly
accused of possessing an alimentary canal twelve, inches longer than
that of other men, returned to the vegetable soup that was waiting
for him.

Two of the most important balloonists--two only--did not seem to
think of returning so soon to their domicile. They availed themselves
of the opportunity to discuss the question with more than usual
acrimony. These were the irreconcilables, Uncle Prudent and Phil
Evans, the president and secretary of the Weldon Institute.

At the door of the club the valet Frycollin waited for Uncle Prudent,
his master, and at last he went after him, though he cared but little
for the subject which had set the two colleagues at loggerheads.

It is only an euphemism' that the verb "discuss" can be used to
express the way in which the duet between the president and secretary
was being performed. As a matter of fact they were in full wrangle
with an energy born of their old rivalry.

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